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With Shannon at his side, Jamie carries a few plates and bowls over to the table. “Hey, I can hear you, Spidey.”
I hate that fucking nickname.
The room erupts into laughter, but I don’t find it the least bit funny.
“Don’t call me that.”
Like I had a say in my name.
I cross my arms over my chest, irritated. “It’s your dad’s fault I got stuck with this name.”
“Your dad shouldn’t have bet mine that he would beat him at video games, of all things.” Jamie pulls out a chair for Shannon and then takes a seat at the table next to Tucker. “He should have known better.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Shannon flicks her dark locks over her right shoulder and cozies up to Jamie waiting for him to tell her the story.
“Our parents are best friends—” he starts, and Shannon interrupts.
“Wait, did you guys all grow up together?”
He nods. “Parker’s mom is my dad’s best friend. They’re kind of like brother and sister.”
“So, that makes you two like brothers.” She points between Jamie and me.
“Yeah,” Jamie says. “Sort of. We’re all family, like one really weird dysfunctional family.”
Drake snorts. “Speak for yourself.”
Shannon glances around the table at each of us. “That’s pretty cool. You guys all knew each other before you came to Strick U. It must make it easier for you to play hockey together.”
“I don’t know about all that,” Drake interrupts.
“It’s definitely an advantage we have over other teams,” I say. “Coaches have a hard enough time getting all the egos to play together.”
“We fight all the time,” Tucker says.
“True,” I counter. “But we don’t stay mad at each other for long.”
Drake laughs. “I just beat the bitchassness out of you.”
“You wish.” I motion my finger toward me. “Come at me, bro. Let’s see how tough you really are.”
He shakes his head, entertained.
Trent holds out his hand to silence Drake. “I’m hungry. Would you two stop measuring dicks until after we eat?”
“You guys are crazy.” Shannon laughs, filling a plate of pasta for each of us. “I hope all of you brought your appetite because I made tons of food. Jamie said you can eat an army under the table, so I kind of overdid it. There’s enough left for the rest of your teammates if you want to invite them.”
“Nah,” Jamie says. “They can fend for themselves. I’m saving the leftovers for us.”
Shannon stands up to pass plates of pasta and garlic bread around the table, and Jamie takes this as an opportunity to smack her ass. She has a nice ass, one I can’t help but lean back more to admire.
“Are you planning to make this a regular thing?” Tucker asks Shannon, shoveling a forkful of pasta in his mouth. “Because I could definitely get used to this.”
“Me, too,” the rest of us mutter in unison.
I wouldn’t mind having her hang out at the house. She’s easy on the eyes. Gets along with the guys. And doesn’t seem like a pain in the ass. Guaranteed dinner every night sounds good to me.
My dad always cooked for us when he was home. That was his thing. He catered to my mom when they were dating, and she hasn’t lifted a finger in the kitchen since. I wouldn’t trust my mom’s food, anyway. She’s better at ordering from a menu.
